


2001

by jame



Category: Fall Out Boy, Pete Wentz - Fandom, andy hurley - Fandom, joe trohman - Fandom, patrick stump - Fandom, self insert - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jame/pseuds/jame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2004. Maddi and Amanda are best friends and roommates in college. They live off-campus, and a few months into them living in their new house, a band begins to practice next door. And they're loud. Like, really, really loud. The two friends decide to go next door and tell them to knock it off, but the band's playing too loud to hear their knocks. They leave a note and leave, and a week later the band pays a visit. What ensues is a story of love, friendship, and awkward self-insert redemption no one's ever seen the likes of before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Amanda

**Author's Note:**

> dont ask why its called 2001 and its actually 2004. i literally only changed the year so i could include them watching one of the hobbit movies. but besides that leave comments/recommendations please!! <3

I knead my knuckles into my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. I hear Maddi groan beside me; the band next door decided to turn their amps up a notch. Our floors shook and we could almost hear their songs through the half-open window. They weren't half-bad, but when you're studying for finals the last thing you want or need is an emo rock group next door blasting their loudest music for hours on end. We had just moved here, weren’t the annoyingly loud neighbors supposed to come in after a year or two?

"Thats it. We're either reporting this, or I'm gonna march both of our asses over there to give 'em a piece of my mind." I turn, facing Maddi, my eyebrows knit together in frustration.

I continue. "It's been going on for weeks, man! Weeks! And this psych final isn't gonna study and pass itself, you know!"

Maddi sighs a bit, shaking her head at my exasperation. "Oh, it's not that bad. At least it's not, like... screamo, or anything. His voice is pretty nice.."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms, but I laugh anyways. I had noticed how still she’d go when only his voice could be heard, and once the drums or guitar started again the scratch of her pencil and her flipping pages could be heard again. That was the only way I really knew how much she liked it, because nothing could break her concentration. And even if she did like his voice, it didn’t excuse how loud they were.

I raise my hands up in defeat, throwing down my books and getting up. "Fine. Let's go over there, ask them nicely, and be done with it, okay?"

Maddi nods, papers still in hand, a pencil holding her messy bun in place. Grabbing my hand and hauling me down through the kitchen and front door, we reach the next door neighbor’s house in less than a minute.

If the music was loud at our house, it was nothing compared to on their porch. The floorboards creak and vibrate constantly, and my legs feel like jello as I try knocking on the door. No answer, and the music keeps on going. I groan, they probably play in the basement. No way would they hear us from down there. I turn around, and Maddi’s leaning over the banister of the porch, back hunched. I walk up to her, brushing her curls out of her face, when I see what she was doing.

In her neatest handwriting, she had spelled out: Hi! We’re your next door student neighbors, who happen to have finals coming up. We appreciate the free music every night, but sometimes it gets a little bit too loud for me and my friends’ taste. Thank you!

I laugh, shaking my head, running a hand through my hair. I could feel it fluff out into a short, dark brown halo, the ends frizzier than ever. I watch Maddi fold up the paper and slide it between the door and the jamb, and she gives me a thumbs up when it doesn’t fall out. As we walk back home together, I can’t help but start thinking about what their reactions would be, and start feeling slightly guilty. By the time we get back upstairs and I’m in front of my notebooks again, my mind is racing.

“Maddi?” I start cautiously, my palms clammy. “Do… do you think they’ll get upset? Like they’re really sensitive to criticism or something, and might get really mad? I don’t wanna upset anyone…”

She shrugged a bit, shaking her head. “There’s no reason for them to be upset, you said it yourself, they’re loud as hell. And if they’re as cool as they think they are, then they’ll respect us.”

I nod, and she turns around, going back to studying, but the thought is still at the back of my mind by the time we go to bed.

 

For a full week and a half after we wrote the letter, no noise came from the house next door. Only one car sat parked there, and there was no movement. Both Maddi and I became worried; how could a band just stop playing so suddenly? We had talked about it after the first night, shocked that it had worked. Now, we’d toss each other worried glances, unsettled by the lack of noise from the usually lively house.

After a while, once we knew that we’d have guaranteed silence, Maddi and I began testing each other, reading from each other’s notes and throwing random questions at each other.

“What was the name of Shakespeare’s theater?”

“The Globe.”

“What year was it created?”

“Sixteen-ninety-nine?”

“Nope, try again!”

“Fifteen-ninety-nine!”

“Yes!”

We laugh, and she shakes her head a bit, still smiling.

“That stuff’s not even gonna be on the test,” she sighs, taking her notes and straightening them out.

“But what if it is?” I smile, tossing her my journal, filled to the brim with scribbles and margin doodles, along with post-its sticking out of every page, from basic yellow to leaf-shaped ones.

Maddi catches it, opening up the journal to a random page, fingers running along the blue and black ink etched inside. “Nice. What is the ten-step process to--,” before she can finish, a loud knock comes from the door. We can hear a slight commotion coming from down there too, several voices speaking at once, until a much louder one shushes them all into silence. Another knock. We exchange nervous glances, putting down our notes. Maddi picks up her mace, tucking it up her hoodie sleeve, and I slip on my own hoodie, both of us walking to the door cautiously.

We stay in front of the door, and another knock comes from the other side. Some hushed whispers too, and when I check through the peephole, I see four guys standing in front of the door, shuffling nervously. They were carrying some baskets, but what caught my eye was how different each of them looked from the other.

The one on the far left had shoulder-length auburn hair, a scrubby beard, round glasses, and had tattoos snaking up both arms and his neck, his light skin slightly pockmarked. Standing next to him, another guy, this one tan, wore a bright red hoodie, the hood up over black flat-ironed hair, spiked downwards, and he had really thick eyeliner on under his wide brown eyes. After him was the shortest and smallest of the four, blonde hair hidden under a gray beanie, and he was wearing a camouflage shirt that had been worn down with love; tiny holes were apparent along the collar and sleeves. The last one was the tallest and lankiest, with curly brown hair and droopy, tired eyes, he shuffled the most, looking down at his feet. They were the oddest, most different looking assembly of people I have ever laid eyes on, but just by one look I can tell they don’t mean any trouble, nor could they initiate any, by the looks of it. Soon, Red Hoodie starts talking to Camo, and after not too long they’re going back and forth, both seemingly frustrated.

Maddi then nods at me, and I open the door slowly, barely making a noise. The peephole had made them seem much shorter than I thought; although Maddi didn’t have to, I had to tilt my head back slightly in order to see their faces clearly. I feel a little tug in my belly; it was that feeling again, but I ignored it. Like always.

“Hello?” They don’t notice me at first, still arguing, but when I speak, they immediately stop, whirling around to see me and Maddi standing in the doorway.

Camo smiles at us, dimples in his cheeks, and he pulls out a letter, unfolding it and handing it to us. “Uh, we just wanted to know if, maybe, you were the two who left this for us last week?” I instantly recognize it, looking up at Maddi, who’s scanning the paper, reading her own work.

I nod. “Yeah, that was us. How come? Is everything alright?"

Camo nods, laughing a little. “Well, we were gonna ask you that, but-”

Tattoo guy speaks up, his voice much higher and softer than I expected. “We just wanted to know if it was okay to play again.”

The tallest one leans over, smiling a little bit. “We don’t need the cops at our door, it already happened at Andy’s,” he points at Tattoo guy, “and my house, so Pete and Patrick’s is our only place left to practice.” He then motions to Red Hoodie and Camo in turn, “And I’m Joe.” He sticks his hand out for me to shake, which I quickly do.

Maddi looks at me, then looks up at the guys in front of us. “Wait, you’re the band from next door?” Patrick nods, and Maddi and I exchange quick glances at each other before Pete chimes in.

“Are we okay? I haven’t played bass in a while, but considering you can hear us I guessed-” Patrick flicks his arm, silencing him for a moment.

“Is it okay if we come in? It’s kinda chilly out…” He smiles sheepishly, almost apologetically. I blush, stepping aside and opening the door, hasty apologies spilling out of my mouth for keeping them waiting for so long. Patrick shakes his head, smiling and laughing a bit, setting down his basket on the kitchen counter. The rest of them followed suit, and then sat down on our couch, Andy sitting straight, Joe sprawled out, Pete slouching. Patrick stayed standing, leaning against the counter.

I glance at them in turn, and when no one says anything I laugh a little nervously, fumbling on my words. "I... I, uh, just wanted to know, m-maybe... What're you guys doing here? With... baskets and all this stuff?"

Pete chimes in, taking off his hood. "Oh, well, when you left the letter we felt kinda bad, you know? We wanted to make it up to you, so I figured we could buy you two something. There's like, CD's, soap, candles and all sortsa shit, it's great. And it's all anti-stress, for your finals." He shrugs a bit, running a hand through his hair.

Maddi and I look at each other, and I almost start crying, tears welling up in my eyes. We both knew how bad my anxiety got at times, and anything like special candles or soaps was a rare luxury, at best. So I'd have to soothe myself with cheap cocoa or go through the attacks, my breathing labored, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"And there's some cookies, and -- Hey, are you alright?" Pete noticed my wobbling lip, and how I simply stared at the baskets, and walks forth, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You alright?" I nod a bit, but the moment I feel a hot tear trace down my cheek, he pulls me into a tight hug, his palms flat on my back, his thumb rubbing circles in between my shoulder blades. I feel Maddi’s long fingers curl around my shoulder, pushing Pete away, and she pulls me into her chest, her chin resting on the top of my head.

“She’s just not used to this. Go ahead, she’ll be okay.” Maddi shortly states, one hand firm on my back.

Pete awkwardly continues, fumbling a little on his words, until I pull away from Maddi, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. “Th-thanks,” I hiccup, breaking up my words, “it’s j-just… really n-nice of you, a-all of you, to do so-something like,” I have to take a breath, my throat closing a little, “something like th-this.” Everyone is quiet, the only sound being my broken breathing.

Joe breaks the silence. “Well! Now that we’ve got ‘crying in front of each other’ off of the list, what’re your names? Already told you ours, and it’d be nice to know you two by something other than just ‘The Two Girls that Brought Us a Really Passive Aggressive Letter’.”

I laugh a little bit, and Maddi answers, “I’m Madison, don’t call me anything else. And she’s --”

“Amanda,” I interrupt, voice crackly, “you can call me whatever you like, I-I’m okay with nicknames.”

Joe nods, his long neck bobbing up and down. Patrick smiles a bit at Maddi's shortness, and I can't help but giggle too.

Pete chimes in with, "Madison and Amanda. They're... fitting." He looks at me, a tiny mischievous glint in his eye. "So, any nickname?" When I nod, he smiles widely. "Mandy? Mandis? Amy? Fluffy? Candy?" He barrages me with nicknames, earning a glare from Maddi and a laugh from me.

"Use any of those, and we'll have to meet in the pit, Pete." I roll my eyes at him, still smiling a bit.

"The pit, huh? What time, Candy?" He smiles again, one side pulling up higher than the other, a dimple marking his cheek.

"You wanna go, man?"

"I dunno, do you wanna go, Fluffy?"

I start laughing and shaking my head, running a hand through my hair.

"Don't worry, he'll always try and mess with y--," Patrick suddenly stops, looking at Maddi, "What's that?" He's looking at Maddi's sleeve, where her mace container is slightly peeking out.

She looks down a little, blushing, and she stows it in her pocket. "Just a precaution."

"What kind of precaution...?" Patrick asks quietly, eyes wide.

"Mace, that kind."

"Mace?"

"Yeah, mace. We're two college girls living alone; I've used it before and I'll use it again. Just gotta stay safe, you know?"

Patrick's eyes go a little bit wide, and he nods, understanding. "Wow... Never really seemed like something I'd see in real life... For us, it's in movies and TV but, like, it's weird seeing it in real life, I guess."

"Imagine how weird it is having to carry it around everywhere, hoping you won't have to use it, crazy, huh?" Maddi replies a bit sarcastically, crossing her arms.

Patrick's face goes red, and Maddi laughs a little bit, leaning in and handing him the mace can. "Go ahead, it's not gonna bite." Patrick takes hold of the little red canister, turning it over in his hands, fascinated.

Pete stretches his arms over his head, yawning a bit, slipping his hoodie off over his head, putting it beside him. "Speaking of bites," he starts, voice languid, "I could totally go for a bite to eat. Specifically, some pizza."

I look up at him, already taking the house phone out of the holster. "What toppings do you want?" I ask, opening a drawer and pulling out a Domino's menu, dialing up the number on the pamphlet.

His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head, pulling out his own flip phone. "Don't worry about it, it's on me." I smile a little, shaking my head and putting the phone back, tossing him the menu.

"Well, I can't say this night can get any better." I laugh, pulling out plates and cups as Pete orders. 3 pizzas, each half pepperoni, half cheese, an order of garlic bread, and a bottle of Coke. Christ, I thought, three pizzas? It was only six people, 24 slices seemed a bit excessive.

By the time the pizza arrived, we had decided to let the guys come over whenever they wanted, and they promised to always bring or order something whenever they came. Pete answered the door, taking the pizza from a lanky, nervous teenage boy with acne scars, balancing everything on one arm.

"Fanksh," Pete mumbles, wallet in his teeth, as he hands the kid 30 bucks. Shutting the door behind him with his foot, he places everything on the counter, opening up the boxes of pizza. Soon, everyone was gathered around the counter, grabbing their own slices. Everyone grabbed two each, except for  Joe and Andy, who grabbed three. Two of the pizza boxes were gone, the third still full.

However, the pizza inside box #3 quickly disappeared, Pete somehow managing to devour the remaining 8 slices of pizza in mere minutes.

"Holy shit!" both Maddi and I shrieked right as Pete finished the last slice. Maddi looked like she was going to throw up, her face pale, and I was in awe, my eyes wide.

"How do you do that?" I asked, chin in my hands, looking up at Pete. "That was... well, amazing! I can barely put down three slices, honest. But you just..!" I sigh, shaking my head. "Wow. That's all I have to say."

Pete laughs, shaking his head and going to the sink, washing his hands. "Well," he says, talking over the stream of water, "most people have reactions like your friend's. And these nerds are used to it already." he jerk his head at the rest of the group, smiling a bit.

Andy shrugs. "Guilty as charged. Watching Pete eat pizza like it was his last meal every day for the past 5 years kinda desensitizes you to the whole thing."

Maddi shudders a bit, still looking slightly green, and looks away. I laugh, tearing the last piece of garlic bread in two, handing half to her. She takes the piece, nibbling at it quietly. Everyone was finished eating by then, and most of us started getting sleepy, except for Pete, who was the same as before, maybe even more energetic.

I yawn, stretching my arms upwards. "Well, I think we're gonna call it a night. You guys want us to walk you back, or, uh, no?"

Pete shakes his head, laughing a bit. "One of us looks like he could kill someone with a glance, I think we're okay. But," he stops, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded up flyer, handing it to me. "Come to our show. We're really just starting, and it'd be cool to have some friends there."

I smile a bit, nodding. He beams, and they set off, leaving as quickly as they had arrived.


	2. Chapter 2: Amanda

As Maddi and I start picking up, clearing things into the trash and cleaning the counter, I see Pete's hoodie still on the couch. "Crap!" I walk over to it, picking it up. "Should we go back to give--"

"No!" Maddi shrieks, her face red and eyes wide. When she sees how visibly freaked out I am from her sudden outburst, she tones it down. "You know that show they invited us to? The one this weekend? Wear it, but then! You'll look really cute."

I scoff, folding the jacket. "Why would I wanna look cute? It's just a hoodie."

Maddi smiles, raising an eyebrow. "It's not just a hoodie. Pete had heart-eyes on around you the whole time they were here; he likes you! A band member likes you! This is like, like our eighth grade dreams come true, man!"

I scoffed again, rolling my eyes. "The only person with heart eyes here was Patrick, you're a total babe to him, seriously, and to him it's like seeing, shit... I dunno, one of those underwear models! Like the really pretty ones. You're an underwear model to him."

Maddi blushes, looking away, flustered out of her mind. "I'm... I'm not an underwear model..." she says quietly, her face red.

"To Patrick you are, though! Doesn't matter if you're an actress or a doctor, he's gonna think you're mega-mega hot. And cool! Because you are!" I laugh, wagging a finger at her. "He's totally into you."

"And Pete's into you too, nerd!"

"You already pointed that out, nerd!"

Maddi laughs, then stays silent for a while, until she softly says, "What if I'm into him, too, though?"

I shrug, leaning on the counter, unfolding Pete's hoodie and putting it on. It's pretty oversized, the sleeves long and the hoodie itself just plain... large. It fit Pete normally, and he was actually rather thin. Maddi looks over at me, and she starts laughing, walking over to me.

"Oooh, Amandaaaa," she drolls, making her voice comically deep, "aren't you haaaawwt, wearing my hooodieee? Because you're usually smoooking!" She strokes my face the whole time, teasing me until my face turns red, and she can't continue from laughter.

After Maddi finishes laughing and my face returns to normal, we go back up to our room, slipping on our pajamas; Maddi's being a large t shirt and loose sweats, mine being whatever was clean at the moment. Tonight, I kept Pete's hoodie on, only a pair of shorts and a cotton shirt underneath.

Even if I didn't want to admit it, and definitely didn't want to admit it to Maddi, I was pretty sure I had started to like the bassist from next door.

When the weekend finally rolled around, Maddi and I were restless as ever. Even though it probably wasn't going to be a huge gig, we were still looking forward to it. Changing from being forced to listen to their muffled music for months versus voluntarily going to a concert of theirs? There was no competition.

As I had promised Maddi, I wear the hoodie,  underneath just a black shirt and dark jeans. Maddi wore a black leather jacket, white shirt, and black jeans. Red lipstick and sharp eyeliner pulled the whole look together for both of us, and before we left I could honestly say that we looked amazing.

While we're driving to the show, me reading directions and Maddi driving, we can't help but wonder about what it'll be like.

"I've never been to a concert before," I mumble a bit, shrugging at Maddi. "I've got no idea how this is gonna go."

Maddi shakes her head a bit. "Well, at least your first concert's gonna be a: with me and b: with your future boyfriend being part of the band."

"He's not gonna be my--"

"No objections!" Maddi interrupts me, reaching one hand from the wheel to my face, slapping me softly.

I laugh, batting her hand away. "It's just a hoodie, and what if he already has a girlfriend? He's cute, even with all that eyeliner on..."

Maddi looks at me, an eyebrow raised. "Trust me, that boy does not have a girlfriend." She waited a moment, before her eyes went wide. "Oh wait, he does, actually..."

I look up at her, eyes wide. "R-really?"

She grins, laughing. "She's you, dummy! Or at least you're gonna be!"

I roll my eyes, and fold up the hoodie sleeves. Even if it didn't look it, the material was thick, wintry stuff, and I felt slightly hot already, even only after wearing it for 20 minutes.

Once we get to the show, Maddi and I are in sheer disbelief. At least 500 people were here, either being admitted or already swarming around the stage. It's an outdoor concert, and the sun just began setting, the sky streaked with pinks and oranges. By the time we get up to the security guard, the guys spot us, running over. When the guard sees their reactions to us, specifically Pete’s, he smiles wide, clapping Pete’s shoulder.

“So, is this the famous girlfriend you haven’t shut up abou--”

Pete had clapped a hand over the security guard’s mouth, his eyes wide and cheeks pink. The security guard looks at Maddi, and before he can take Pete’s hand off of his mouth, Pete shakes his head.

“She’s cool, she’s with us.” The guard nods, and Pete takes back his hand, still blushing a tad. Pete then smiles at us, pointing at the stage. “Just follow me, the guys are waiting backstage for you two.” Maddi and I look at each other, eyebrows raised, and we follow Pete to the little trailer behind the stage, black sharpie letters on the door spelling out “BACKSTAGE”.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m guessing that was your handiwork?”

He smiles, shrugging a bit, unlocking the door. “Guilty.” He looks down, and his small smile turns into a wide beam. “Nice threads, too.”

I blush, looking down at his hoodie I was wearing. “Oh, I was gonna give it--”

The second Pete opens the door, I’m immediately interrupted by the sound of yelling.

“I don’t care if it’s the band, you’re my boyfriend!” The voice speaking was of a high-pitched and nasally woman. I look over at Maddi, pursing my lips. She’s pale as a sheet, her hands balled up into fists, which she quickly shoves into her jacket pockets.

“You don’t understand, I’m finally happy--”

“Oh, so you weren’t happy before? When it was just me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant! Just listen--”

“I need to listen? Me? Christ, if you wanna talk, I’m gonna be outside, I can’t handle your shit right now, Patrick.”

The girl speaking goes out the door on the other side of the trailer, slamming it on her way out. I can hear a soft stream of curses coming from Patrick as he gets up, following her, his heavy footsteps fading more and more as he goes after her.

Pete raises his eyebrows, letting out a long, low whistle. “Well, uh… You just met Patrick’s girlfriend, or at least heard her, which is pretty much the same thing… Name’s Anna, and she’s a firework. She’s blown up at each of us at least a few times, but Patrick the most.” He sighs, shaking his head and climbing into the trailer, us following him. “Poor guy, her words can be on the… harsh side.”

He shrugs though, and sits down on a couch in the trailer, pulling a water bottle up from the cooler beside it. “I think it’s ending soon, though. She keeps on telling him to choose between her and the band, and he just asks her why not both, and she comes back with a threat or some guilt-tripping shit.”

Maddi and I sit down next to Pete, me in between the two of them. Maddi looks  slightly less pale, but still worried. “Isn’t that kinda… abusive?”

Pete snorts a bit, nodding at her. “‘Course it is. Pat won’t admit it, though. It’s getting to him here,” Pete tapped his temple with a finger, “and here.” He then tapped his chest, right where his heart was supposed to be. “Emotional abuse. It’s wearin’ the poor guy out.”

Maddi sighs, shaking her head. “He doesn’t deserve that… why does he even stay with her?”

Pete shrugs. “Beats me. Been asking that since he first hooked up with her. She’s his first serious girlfriend, though. Probably doesn’t wanna let go.”  
  
“He’s probably scared of having to find someone else if he breaks up with her, considering she was his first. Doesn’t excuse anything, though…” I add, shaking my head.

“I’ve been telling him that since she started threatening to leave him. She’s scaring him, and it’s getting to him.”

Maddi starts, but before she can say her first word the door slams open again, Joe and Andy coming in, laughing and smiling, and their grins get even bigger when they see us.

“Hey! Didn’t think you two would show.” Joe smiles, and fishes a twenty out of his pocket, tossing it to Pete. “We bet sometimes,” he says apologetically, shaking out his curls, leaning against a vanity near the door, the mirror on it cracked.

Maddi and I exchange nervous glances, still worrying about Patrick, but we both knew now wasn’t the time.

For at least an hour before the show began, Joe, Andy, and Pete told us about how the band had started, how Patrick didn’t want to be the singer but after endless pleading for 3 weeks straight he finally agreed, how they only did covers until Andy suggested they tried writing their own stuff, and that’s where Pete and Joe came in. Pete wrote lyrics and supplied a bassline, Joe brought the sound to life, Andy set the backbone, and Patrick sang Pete’s lyrics like they were his last.

By the time Patrick comes back to the trailer, the show’s less than 10 minutes away from starting. He smiles, sitting next to Maddi.

“So, what’d I miss?” He asks quietly, Joe and Andy still joking with each other.

Pete answers, “The history of Fall Out Boy. I had to include when you insisted on being the drummer, and how Andy over here nearly deafened us when he tried singing ‘Sugar, We’re Going Down’.”

Patrick groans a bit, burying his face into his hands. “You had to mention the drummer story? C’mon, I wanna look cool!”

Pete laughs, and gets up, pulling me up too. “Show time, guys! And you two,” he points at Maddi and me, “come with me, I’ll get you two spots right in the front.”

We follow Pete out of the trailer, and when he gets on stage with us, the mass of girls on ground level go into hysterics, all either screaming, shrieking, or yelling in some way. Pete grabs the mic, tapping on it. Everyone goes silent.

“Alright, everyone! I know you’re reeeally excited for tonight,” Pete’s voice booms over the crowd, “but I need you all to calm down for a bit, I need to have my friends over here stand in the front, it’s important, okay?” Several guards come to the spot in front of the center of the stage, pushing girls away. If anyone tried to move forward, they’d get pushed, some even sent all the way to the back with the stragglers. Maddi jumps down from the stage, and I jump down with her, my knees wobbling a little bit. Pete turns off the mic, and crouches in front of us, so we’re nearly eye to eye

“Well, it’s show time. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve gotta go save the world.” He smiles and winks, getting up and moving back into position. The moment he does, the guards stop pushing the girls back, and they all go back to being squeezed tightly together, like sardines, almost.

Maddi looks at me quickly, smiling a bit, despite the crowd’s rowdiness. “Was that a pickup line I just heard?” she says teasingly.

I scoff, looking away, but still blush a little bit at the thought.

Patrick was now on the stage, along with Joe and Andy, all in position.

Patrick grabs the mic, raising a hand into the air. "Chicago! Raise your hands up if all you wanna do is dance, dance with Fall Out Boy!"

Everyone raises their hands up to the sky, stars already glittering above, and a scream that can be described as no less than supersonic rose from the mass of people.

"THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT!" Patrick yelled, laughing, right as Pete began playing out a low, resonant bassline, Andy tapping out a beat in the back.

 

_She says she's no good with words but I'm worse_

_Barely stuttered out "A joke of a romantic", or just stuck to my tongue_

_Weighed down with words too over-dramatic_

_Tonight it's "It can't get much worse"_

_vs. "No one should ever feel like..."_

 

As Patrick sings, the amount of people pressing around Maddi and I seem even more than before. Grabbing at my hair, clothes, even my arms and legs, just trying to get closer to the stage, closer to them. Patrick is busy strutting around the stage, a hand up, getting the crowd pumped even more than they already were.

 

_I'm two quarters and a heart down_

_And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds_

_These words are all I have so I'll write them_

_So you need them just to get by_

 

I hadn’t realized how thick Pete’s hoodie was until now; the fabric clings at my skin, making me feel even hotter than I already was in the muggy weather. I looked up at the stage, Pete's watching me, trying not to seem obvious as he played.

 

_Dance, dance_

_We're falling apart to half time_

_Dance, dance_

_And these are the lives you'd love to lead_

_Dance, this is the way they'd love_

_If they knew how misery loved me_

 

How many people are even here by now? 600? 700? It feels like thousands by now, the amount of heat that was coming from the crowd. As Patrick belts out the chorus, Pete yanks off his shirt, tattoos on his chest, arms, and right above his belt glistening under the spotlights. The crowd goes even wilder, a wave of shrieks coming from what seemed like everywhere.

 

_You always fold just before you're found out_

_Drink up it's last call,_

_Last resort_

_But only the first mistake_

 

Mistakes… My first mistake was coming out here wearing this hoodie, but I can’t take it off, someone might take it, or step on it… I pull it closer against me, my vision starting to double slightly, my hair sticking to the back of my neck, my forehead, cheeks, anywhere it touched. I try brushing it away, but it goes right back to where it was beforehand.

 

_I'm two quarters and a heart down_

_And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds_

_These words are all I have so I'll write them_

_So you need them just to get by_

 

Everyone’s voices are so loud, there’s no way I’d forget them… There were now two Petes on the stage, both shredding the bass and swaying his hips, looking up to wink at me.

 

_Why don't you show me a little bit of spine_

_You've been saving for his mattress, love_

 

God, I would give up anything to lay down right now, the crowd’s too dense for me. Patrick croons into the microphone, and I look over at Maddi, her smile the last thing I see before I pass out.  
  



	3. Chapter 3: Amanda

 When I wake up, I'm drenched in cold sweat, and a hand is on my cheek. I must've forgotten to turn off the fan, but why was Maddi touching my cheek?

"Not.. not the eyebrows again, Maddi..."

"Not the what again?"

I open my bleary eyes, the light extremely bright, and see Pete hovering above me, a water bottle in one hand. When I blink, looking into his eyes, he smiles, pulling away and sitting down in front of me. I sit up, and I realize I'm on the couch in the trailer; Pete had pulled out the chair from the vanity, setting it in front of the couch.

Pete leans over, one hand on my back, holding me up, the other one pushing the water bottle into my hands.

"Drink," his voice is soft, along with his gaze. "It'll make you feel better. Also, don't worry about your eyebrows, they're safe. For now..."

I take the bottle from his hands, sipping at it before putting it between my knees. "What happened?" I asked, my voice crackly.

"You managed to pass out two minutes into the first song," he says, laughing and shaking his head. "You overheated, burning up when I carried you in here. Why'd you wear that hoodie anyways? Even I'm not wearing a hoodie, and I always do."

I blush, fidgeting with the bottle cap. "Maddi said it would--" I look up and stop, seeing Andy and Joe signing autographs for a few fans, Patrick and Maddi nowhere in sight. "Wait, where's Maddi?"

Pete sighs, scratching the back of his neck. "Patrick just got dumped, Maddi's talking to him, I think. I just know Anna stormed off, Patrick started crying, and Maddi ran over to him. They're probably behind this thing, almost everyone left by now. Just you two and a few stragglers left."

I nod a bit, "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"It's gonna take a while, but... I know he'll be happy. And something tells me he'll be finding another girlfriend preeetty soon."

"Yeah, you're right..." I trail off, smiling a bit.

"So--"

Right before Pete can even talk, the door slams open, a pale girl with short black hair strutting in. She sets her eyes on me, along with Pete, whose hand was still on my back, and I can see the fire in her eyes blaze.

"Why are you wearing my boyfriend's jacket?"

I go pale, my eyes wide, and Pete's hand falls from my back.

"Hillary, shut the fuck up! Please!"

I go red, whirling around at Pete, and before I even open my mouth he interrupts.

"My sister. She likes fucking with my girlfriends--"

"Yeah, in the ass--"

"HILLARY. SHUT. THE FUCK. UP."

Hillary starts cracking up, and she opens the door again, walking down and waving goodbye. "Enjoy my brother's emo ass! Good luck!" She slams the door again, the screws rattling softly.

I look over at Pete, my cheeks still slightly pink. "Did you just, uh... c-call me your girlfriend?

  


 


	4. Chapter 4: Patrick

was already after the show; everyone had left, the only people left being the security, Madison, Amanda, and the band members themselves. And Anna. Well, if you counted Anna driving off in a fit of rage as being there, then she was definitely there. I was left in her wake, as what she said settled in.

It's just a band, and if it's so important to you, then I guess I'm just meaningless to you too, like anything other than this shit band! Fuck you, fuck your friends, and fuck any girl that tries and gets in your pants. I hope I never see you again, asshole.

I stand in her dust cloud, glasses smudged, sweat trickling down my forehead from when I tried running over to her. I can vaguely hear a "your music's shiiiit!" coming from the car that was speeding away, the back tires swerving and spinning like mad.

I yank off my beanie, hot tears tracing down my cheeks, and I throws it on the ground. I would get on without her, Pete had told me since day one, but it all seemed so irrelevant now--

"Patrick...?" Madison's voice drifts to my ears just as I dig my heel into the hat, grinding it into the dirt. I quickly turn around, startled, and when I see her I smile a bit.

"H-hey, Madison.." I smile apologetically, and pick up the beanie, shoving it into my pocket and blushing.

She looks worried, and I notice she’s looking right under my eyes; they were probably red and puffy by now.

"Look, Madison, before you--"

She interrupts me, her voice soft. "Pete told me about Anna. You don't need to, uh, explain."

I blush even more, looking down and scuffing my heel in the dirt. "Oh..."

"It's okay, though!" She walks closer, putting a hand on my shoulder. "She wasn't... she wasn't a good person. You deserve better."

My bottom lip trembles, and all I could think of was the infinite amount of times that Anna had told him she was the best I'd ever get, that she deserved better, that I was lucky to even call her my girlfriend.

Madison pulls me close, her chin resting on my shoulder, her hands soft on my back. My chest heaves, voice wracked with sobs as I clutch onto her like a lifeline. She waited for me.

I slowly stop crying, until it dwindles down to sniffles. I pull away, squeezing Madison softly before so.

"I'm s-sorry for that..." I hiccup, breathing shallow and chest tight, and I pull out my inhaler, smiling apologetically. "N-nerdy but," he tries to breathe, but can barely do it, "I... c-can't breathe.." I pull off the cap, taking two long puffs. Putting it away and taking a deep breath, what looks like smoke curls up from my lips.

"Crying messes me up, and whenever it's, uh.. like that, my asthma gets really, really bad."

"Me too, man. Makes you feel like you're drowning, right?"

"Oh, exactly like tha-- Wait. You have asthma? But... But how can a girl like, well, you, have asthma like me?"

"Well, this girl isn't so different from you, after all. Plus, lotsa people have asthma. It's a thing."

I smile, blushing a bit. "Yeah, it sure, uh, sure is a thing..."

Madison smiles, and jerks her head towards where the trailer is. "Wanna head back? Pretty sure the others are waiting for you, well, us, but mostly you."

I nod, and we start walking towards the trailer, footsteps soft in the wet grass.

"Patrick?" Madison says, voice as soft as the damp soil.

"Yeah?"

"Call me Maddi."

  
  



	5. Chapter 5: Amanda

"G-girlfriend...?" Pete's face goes red, and he runs a hand through his hair.

"Y-yea, you said that your sister loved, uh... messing around with your girlfriends. As in girls you go out with. Girlfriends."

“Oh, well I... I dont know… Do you?”

“Do I what?’

“Well, you know, would you wanna be, uh, my girlfriend?”

My eyes go wide, and I nod quickly, blushing a bit. "I'd... I'd love to, Pete."

He breaks into a smile, his eyes crinkling, and it was a beautiful smile. "Great. How does next Saturday sound? My house, at 7?"

I nod, smiling, "Right after finals ends, too... Sounds perfect."

He hugs me quickly, and pulls away, still smiling a little bit.

"Perfect. Also," he pulls away, his hand resting on my forearm, "keep the hoodie. You look really... cute in it."

The next weekend, right at 7, I walked up to the house next door and knocked. The porch shook slightly; Andy was probably drumming, trying out a new rhythm probably. I wore Pete's hoodie and a pair of black jeans, my hair fluffed out into soft curls

I can hear fast, heavy footsteps run up from the basement, and the door unlocks and swings open.

Pete's standing there, wearing just a pair of jeans, a thin sheen of sweat shining on his chest. His hair was combed up and out of his face, stubble shadowing his jawline. 

"Hey, you!" He opens his arms wide, smiling, "Come in, come in!" He backs away from the door, and I walk in, pulling the door shut behind me. He pulls me into a tight hug,  then holds me out at arm's length. "I don't think I've seen you without that hoodie on yet."

I smile, laughing, and cock my head to the side. "Do you  want me to take it off?" 

Pete's eyes go wide, his cheeks turning pink, and his head swivels, making sure no one's around, before he nods a little bit. 

I bust out laughing, shoving him softly. "I have a shirt on underneath, you perv!" Pete laughs, rolling his eyes before putting an arm around my shoulders. 

"Well, the guys are waiting for me downstairs... You wanna stay and listen? Just for a bit, honest. I've got this whooole night planned for us, and trust me, it doesn't end here."

I blush a bit, and nod. He beams, and we go down to the basement, Patrick looking through papers with lyrics scribbled over them, Joe tuning his guitar, and Andy was drinking water, a drumstick tucked behind each ear. 

Patrick hears us and looks up, smiling. "Hey Manda," he says, ruffling through some of the papers. "I know you and Pete are gonna be busy later," he smiles even more, suppressing a laugh, and Joe snorts loudly behind him, "but would you mind telling Maddi to call me? I really wanna talk to her." 

"Along with other things..." Pete mumbles, nudging me with his elbow. 

Patrick's face goes red. “You're one to talk! Like if you haven't been going on and on about how you'd love to--"

"OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH," Pete interrupts, his face beet red, covering his cheeks with his hands. Patrick laughs, shaking his head. 

"If you can't take the heat then don't dish it out, man," Joe says, a wide, crooked smile on his face. 

Pete rolls his eyes, his blush subsiding. "Fine, fine. Now stop being such nerds!"

"What, so we don't embarass you in front of your 'babe'?"

Pete's face flushes to an even darker shade of red this time, and he grabs my hand, pulling me upstairs to the sound of Patrick, Joe, and Andy's laughter. My face is just as red as his.  Babe?  I thought.  He calls me babe? In front of the  guys? 

"S-sorry about that, they can be real jackasses someti--" I cut him off, pulling him into a tight hug, my face buried into his chest. 

"I-it's sweet, Pete, really." I smile up at him, propping my chin on his chest, still hugging him. 

He beams, and hugs me back, kissing my forehead. "Glad you think so. Now lemme go upstairs and change," he stays quiet for a split second before adding, "babe." He winks, rushing up the stairs, and within a minute he's coming back down again, pulling a black shirt over his head. 

I smile at him when he comes down, and take his hand in my own, squeezing it a little bit. He smiles at me, pulling me a little bit closer. "You'll love the place I'm taking you to, it's great." He's all smiles, all the way from the moment we leave the house to when we get to the place. 

 

"What do you mean you're shutting down?! I was here last week!" Pete's face was red again, but for a completely different reason, as he yelled at the manager of the diner he had driven us to. 

The manager sighs. "And if you would have looked around a little bit harder, you would have noticed the signs all around the establishment clearly stating the date of our closing."

Pete groans in frustration, and walks out, slamming the door behind him, getting into the car again. When I climb inside again, I'm silent, watching Pete carefully. He's got his face buried in his hands for a few moments, until he runs his hands through his hair, setting them on the steering wheel right after. 

"This is okay. It's okay. I'll take you somewhere else, and it'll all be fine and dandy and okay." Pete was talking more to himself than me at this point, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. I reach over, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, my expression concerned. 

When he doesn't instantly recoil at my touch, I keep my hand there and speak softly. "Pete, it's not your fault--"

"I  know ! I  know it's not my fucking fault but I wanted to make this night perfect and now it's falling to pieces! And just..." 

We had stopped at a red light, and he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.

"I just really,  really like you, Amanda. And I wanted you to have a good time with me and not think I'm just a goofy kid with too much makeup on, but now it's falling apart and--"

"Oh, Pete," I whisper, my throat constricted as my eyes welled up, "Pete, you  are a goofy kid with a bunch of makeup on..." He looks up at me, eyes wide, almost in fear, "But that's why I like you. You care, y-you're sweet, you're funny and nice as all hell and that's why I like you so much, because we're both goofy kids that don't really know what we're doing, but," I take his hand, gently lacing my fingers with his, "together, I'm pretty sure we can figure it out." 

He smiles a bit, and in an instant he puts a hand on my cheek, pulls me forward, and kisses me. 

There weren't fireworks, Cupid wasn't watching in awe, and no one was enacting revenge on me, but even then, it was indescribable. 

I put a hand on his shoulder, scooting closer to him, and we continue until a truck behind us honks loudly, making us jump and move away from each other. Breathless and red faced, we both laugh, and he starts driving. 

"Wow..." he says, smiling wide now. He reaches over, and he takes my hand in his own, leaning over and kissing the top of it gently. I blush, smiling, and stay that way for a long time. 

Before long, Pete pulled out his phone, holding it between his shoulder and cheek. "Hey, Andrew, I'm comin' over in a few. See you then." He smiles at me, and after a few more minutes of driving, we finally stop. 

 

"Well, even though it wasn't my first choice, here we are!" Pete smiles at me, and we've pulled up in front of a small house, dim light illuminating it. A few older cars sit in the driveway, and potted plants line the porch fence. We both get out of the car, and when he circles around it he takes my hand in his again, leading me to the front door.

He knocks a few times, hard, and yells at the door. "Andrew! Open up, I know you're in there!" A crash is heard from inside, and a few scuffling footsteps, before the door swings open. A small, skinny kid opens the door, no more than 17, probably. His hair is an unruly afro, and he's wearing a pink apron over what look like work clothes. 

"Pete!" He smiles, opening his arms wide. "Haven't seen you since, what, last year?" Pete shrugs a bit, smiling, and hugs Andrew. 

"All irrelevant," Pete holds Andrew away from him, looking him up and down. "I never thought I'd see the day you'd be taller than me, little bro." He shakes his head. "I'd say I'm proud, but I'd be lying."

Andrew laughs, pushing Pete. "Whatever. C'mon in, shorty." He walks back into the house, and Pete and I follow behind. 

"Andy?" An older woman's voice drifted from the kitchen, along with the heavy scent of seafood and spices. "Andy, honey? Who's that with you?" 

Andrew motioned for us to follow him. "Momma, I think you'd wanna see for yourself," he says softly, a smile in his voice and a beam plastered on his face. 

"Now, Andy, I really don't have ti--" The lady turned around, wiping her hands on her own apron, and she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Pete. Honestly, there was no doubt she was Pete's mom. They had the same nose and mouth, the only difference was their eyes. Raising her hands to her mouth, her eyes welling up, she croaked out, "P-petey? Is that really you?" When Pete smiled and nodded she charged forward, lifting Pete up into a ferociously tight hug, beaming. 

"Baby! How long has it been? Are you hungry, do you want anything to drink? Don't you ever go that long without seeing us again!" She said this all very fast, going from sweet to concerned to worried in less than a few seconds. Pete laughed, already being used to it. 

"Well, I wanted to introduce you and  a certain someone , but if you don't let me down--" Pete's mom let him go immediately when she noticed me standing off to the side, looking slightly awkward. 

"You must be Pete's girlfriend! I'm Pete's momma, call me Dale." she sweeps me into her arms, kissing both of my cheeks. "Hillary's told me about you... Amanda, is it?"

Pete's face goes red, and he groans. "Hillary told you about her?"

"What's wrong with Hillary telling?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. 

"You don't wanna know," Pete replied.

"Well," Dale intoned, sounding slightly peeved, " Hillary didn't say anything bad about Miss Amanda over here, and I can tell why; she's like a marshmallow, all pale and soft edges!" She laughs, shaking her head. "In this house, we can't do anything about the paleness, but I fear we will make your soft edges a little softer." I blush a bit, as does Pete. 

"Well, I'd love to chat, hon, but I've got to  finish dinner," Dale pulls away, going back to the stove to finish what she was doing. Pete takes my hand, leading me out to the living room. 

"Andrew, who's that?" I hear another voice call out, one that's awfully familiar. Pete groans beside me, and then her face peeks over the top of the couch-- Hillary. Her face breaks into a wide beam. 

"Amanda!" she squeals, jumping over the back of the couch and hugging me tight.  Man, is everyone in this house this fit? I wondered, slightly self-conscious as I felt Hillary's strong arms versus my soft ones. 

“H-hillary!” I stutter, hugging her back softly. She backs up, hands on her hips, looking me up and down. 

“Always knew Pete liked marshmallows…” She shakes her head, laughing, and playfully pushes me, not noticing how confused I looked. She went to the kitchen, and soon the clatter of plates and food being served could be heard, along with Hillary and Dale’s cheerful banter, Andrew going over to help out. 

I look over at Pete, whose ears were slightly pink. “Marshmallow?” 

He sighs. “It’s like… my family’s slang term for the people I date. Always short, chubby, and pale.” He shakes his head, then smiles at me, “Not to mention, really cute.”

I blush, pushing him. “Stop being such a sap!”

“You knooow you love it,” he teases, grabbing my cheeks and squishing them.

I scoff, blushing, and flick his nose. “M-maybe I do. But still!” 

He smiles, pulling me close and kissing my forehead. “Doesn’t matter, nerd.” 

“Dinner’s ready! Get over here, lovebirds!” Hillary calls out, setting the plates down on the table. 

Pete smiles and takes my hand, leading me to the round little table. Hillary and Dale were setting down heaping dish after dish, Andrew setting out silverware and table settings. Once they were done, all of us sitting down near each other, we dig in.

 

Once everyone had cleared their plates, and Pete and I had cleared the table, Dale bid us goodnight, giving me another bone rattling hug before heading to her bedroom.

“Oh, you’re so sweet!” She said, hugging me tight, “No wonder Pete couldn’t shut up about you at the dinner table!”   
“Mom!”

“What? It’s true, honey, you and everyone else here knows it. Well,” she said, looking at me again, “it was  lovely meeting you, you’re a truly beautiful soul.” She smiles sweetly, kissing my forehead and each of my cheeks. “Promise you’ll come and visit every once in a while, I wanna see my grandbabies one day!”

“ MOM!”

Dale went upstairs then, laughing the whole way up the staircase. Meanwhile, Hillary was cracking up on the sofa, doubled over, and Andrew was in the kitchen, blushing nearly as much as Pete as he scrubbed the plates.  

 

After about an hour of Hillary incessantly teasing us, Pete and I left, heading back home. 

“Well, I guess you’ll hear me tomorrow, then?” Pete laughs, us standing on my porch, still holding each other’s hands. 

I nod, and pull him close, hugging him. He kisses my forehead, resting his chin on my forehead before pulling away.

“I’ll hear you then.” I smile, and he walks back to his house, blowing a kiss before going inside.

The door swings open before I can even get out my keys.

“You two need to  stop. I’m gonna die from that level of cute if you two keep doing that.” Maddi stands in the doorway, hands on her hips, shaking her head. 

I laugh, gently pushing her to the side and walking in, taking the hoodie off and tossing it onto the counter. 

“Don’t worry about dying from  my cuteness, nerd. Worry about dying from your future  boyfriend’s  cuteness.”

Maddi spluttered, eyes wide. “Patrick and I aren’t dating!”

“Ha!” I swivel around, pointing a finger at her. “You knoooow it’s gonna happen  one day. Probably soon, buuut,” I shrug, sitting on a stool by the counter, “it’s probably gonna be soon. That’s why he wanted you to call him.” 

Maddi’s eyes go wide. “Wait, really?” 

I nod, and point at the house phone, smiling a bit. “Yeah, number’s 505-489-5515. Knock yourself out.”

Maddi grabs the phone, almost yanking the cradle off the wall, and she dials the number, waiting.


End file.
